


Birthday Blues

by breatheforeverypart



Series: Natasha's Life [6]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Pepper Potts, Bucky Barnes Recovering, C-PTSD, Gen, M/M, Natasha hides on the roof, PTSD, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark doesn't listen, Trauma triggers, Watson the service dog, birthdays are a trigger, past Red Room trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breatheforeverypart/pseuds/breatheforeverypart
Summary: Natasha strongly dislikes her birthday.  Tony Stark discovers her actual birthday (not the number of inaccurate decoy dates) and throws her a surprise party.After a small fire and an attempt to feed the floor icing from a giant birthday cake Natasha flees to the roof.  James and Watson take to the garden to help her.Steve and Sam plan a calm night for their friend.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Tony Stark / Pepper Potts
Series: Natasha's Life [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758643
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Birthday Blues

***

A pair of comfortably worn boots appeared in Natasha’s view. “Room for one more?” Bucky’s knees popped as he squatted. 

“If I say no?” Natasha pressed her back against the brick wall. Her tone prickled the hair on his arm, but left a little room for negotiation. 

James barked a laugh. “You’ll break Watson’s heart.” 

She paused, spying her favored four-legged dog through the greenery. “How can I say no to that face?” Natasha pushed the large potted plant aside, revealing her secret spot just large enough for two compact humans or one human with a sizable dog. 

“Nice place, away from the cameras.” Watson sniffed along the path, scouting out the perfect spot to pee. James held the leash loosely, waiting for his companion to relieve himself. 

“Stark provides.” Natasha gestured dryly. “Without giving a damn about what anyone actually wants.” She scowled, bunching her legs beneath her to make room for her furry friend and Barnes.

He nodded. “That’s for sure. Stevie’s ripping him a new one as we speak.” James winced internally at the recent series of memories. Tony decking out the Common Room in twists of crepe paper, dozens of red balloons and cut outs of black glittery spiders. 

Natasha ignored Bucky’s words. “May I?” She held out her palm towards Watson. Although Nat was crabby, she respected a Service Dog’s harness. 

“Shit. Forgot that was on.” He quickly unbuckled the straps on the working harness, tugging it over Watson’s head. “Go say hi.” He commanded. James entered the hideaway, struggling to cross his legs in the cramped space. 

Watson lapped at Natasha’s face, trying to lick her ear. He loved his Auntie Nat. She ran with him a couple mornings a week. James had his suspicions that she even spoiled him with ice cream. He went nuts for the stuff, even though Steve swore he had never given the dog a taste of the delicacy. 

“Thanks buddy.” Natasha took his head in her hands, scratching under his ears. The dog’s eyes closed in utter contentment. 

“What’s this?” Barnes extracted a half-squashed box from under his hip bones. 

Natasha chuckled. “Clint’s idea of a present.” 

James whistled in appreciation. “You can’t get that stateside.” He held the container towards the sky, the sunlight allowing him to read the label. 

“Which is why this information doesn’t leave the roof.” Natasha gently swiped crusty goobers from the corners of Watson’s eyes. He licked at them happily. Dogs and toddlers were quite similar, she thought. While at the Barton’s she had watched many a child eat their own boogers. Lila even offered to share once or twice, to her complete horror. 

“Naturally.” He inclined his neck in agreement. “Are you sharing?” He cocked his head at her curiously. 

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’ve had ackee fruit?” 

“I’m a mystery.” His lips curled into a tentative smile. He hoped Natasha could infer that any memory attached to the fruit was fuzzy at best. Watson nudged his thigh, licking at his jeans. 

“That’s true enough.” She unwrapped Barton’s package. “Years ago, we were on an op in Jamaica. We both had malaria, bad. While waiting for extraction, he found ackee and thought it was the perfect snack. At that point the chills were so bad, it made sense to risk death for a possibly unripe piece of produce.” She passed him a slice of the freeze-dried fruit. “It’s a poor imitation of the fresh stuff, but give it a try.” 

James stared at her. His mouth agape in surprise. 

“What?” She asked, defensive. 

“Nothing.” He accepted the dried fruit. As he chewed, he shook his head as if deciding against his better judgement to speak. “That’s the most I’ve heard you talk at one time.” 

“Shut it.” She punched his arm playfully. For Natasha, playfully meant a bruise. James considered that a victory. Watson barked, tail wagging between the two Avengers. 

***

Wilson tapped his foot to the beat. Music pounded through his headphones as he popped balloons with a safety pin. Dumb triggers he chided himself, he had to crank the tunes to an obscene volume just to cope with the bursting party decorations. 

Damn balloons. Stupid party he thought, his anger barely contained under the pulsating music. Poor Natasha. He’d spent years working with veterans. Her face when she entered Stark’s birthday house of horrors had shattered his heart. 

Smears of icing still decked the floor from where it had landed. Pepper’s flats had snuffed the tiny fires created by flaming candles on the plush carpet. Somewhere to his left Bruce was examining the burn marks, spraying them with a new experimental liquid. Sam crinkled his nose, the mixture smelled vaguely of pumpkin pie. That combined with the helium was a headache waiting to happen. 

“Sam.” Pepper yelled. She tossed the roll of paper towels towards Banner. He thanked her meekly and resumed his cleaning efforts. Tony and Steve were having a fight worthy of reality TV one floor away from the Common Room and Pepper could still hear their voices. 

The man stopped for the briefest of moments before breaking out into a silent drum solo. Wilson tuned into his body, purposefully trying to lower his blood pressure. This afternoon had certainly taken a weird turn. 

Pepper tied her hair back, wiping at the sweat beading at her forehead. “SAM!” Raising her voice, she fought to control her frustration. 

“Whoa!” Sam finally saw Pepper standing almost touching his knees. “What?” He yelled back, music still pounding through his ears. 

She mimed removing the headphones and crossed her arms impatiently. Pausing the music, Sam looped the headphones around his neck. He dropped the pin on the ground. 

“Sam.” She perched on the cushion opposite him, holding her hands in her lap. “Are you okay?” 

“Peachy.” He huffed, brushing carefully along the carpet fibers for the lost needle. 

She located the needle, plucking it from the carpet between manicured nails. “Bullshit.” 

“Listen.” Sam sighed. “I’m not gonna say anything bad about my employer.” 

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Well, if I worried about that I would’ve been fired years ago.” 

“Says the woman who manages her husband’s life.” 

She clucked her tongue, winking at him. “Which is how I know that Tony almost always means well, but he can be a bit of an idiot.” 

Sam laughed weakly. “You don’t say?” 

Pepper slid a hand forward to squeeze his knee. “So, how do we fix this?” 

***

The sun was beginning to dip below the Manhattan skyline. Watson dozed with his head in Natasha’s lap. She massaged his head, her fingers happy to have something to fidget with. 

“Worst birthday?” James asked. His knife carved intricate designs in a discarded branch that Watson had tried to eat. 

“Um.” Natasha popped another cinnamon candy in her mouth. “Do I have to remember it for it to be bad?” 

James grunted. “Okay. That’s fair.” The reality of the years they both lost to the Red Room slammed into his brain. His hands shook, the knife threatening to nick something besides the narrow branch. 

“Here’s to memory wipes.” Natasha shrugged, holding out the bag of candy from Laura. Cinnamon always soothed her. In her early days of freedom, Nat could not make any decisions. Her body rejected nearly everything her ingested. Cinnamon in applesauce was forever tied to her safety in her memory. 

He turned to her, confused. “You got those too?” 

“Yeah.” Watson shifted onto his back in his sleep, his back legs spreading open to accept tummy scratches. “Yelena and I figured out we got them after I nearly killed her.” 

James nodded knowingly. He began to speak, but swallowed abruptly. His words slid down his throat, silent and secret. “Red in our ledgers.” He said instead. 

“Buckets of it.” 

Barnes laughed. Watson’s head tilting towards his human at the sound of his voice. “Hey bud.” 

Nat stretched her legs around the large potted plant. “Sorry Watson.” The dog huffed in annoyance. 

“How mad is Tony?” She asked her lap. 

“Let’s check.” James withdrew his phone from his jeans. “Hmm. Only 4 missed calls. Two are from Potts. Bunch of texts from Wilson and Stevie.” 

She exhaled a string of curses. “Do we have to go?” 

“Nah.” “We’re experts at surviving. I think we can make a go it out here.” 

“We could make a fire, roast some of your peppers.” She mused. “It’s warm enough to sleep outside.”

“Who needs a bathroom? We can just pee in the plants.” James added. “I know you hate cilantro.” He teased her lightly. 

She smacked his chest with an open palm. “True. But I could just get Watson to destroy that for me.” Her phone buzzed from her bunched-up jacket between them. Watson sniffed the fabric curiously. 

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the screen. “Rogers says to come down.” She said warily. 

James hauled himself upright in the right space. “You trust him, right?” 

“About as much as I trust you.” She glared at his outstretched hand. 

Stuffing his hand into his pocket he sighed. “Romanov.” 

“Fine.” She threw the Barton’s package in his general direction and rose gracefully to her feet. “Come on Wats.” She addressed the dog, striding towards the elevator. 

***

“Mischief Managed.” Quoted Steve, holding his bottle out to Sam. 

“I’ll drink to that.” Sam took a gulp of soda. “This is the good stuff. Where’d you get it?” 

“Lancaster. They make the best birch beer around.” 

“Only you’d drive out to the middle of nowhere for soda.” 

“Nat and I were on a recruitment op.” 

Sam read the handwriting on the bottle. “The Amish are damn good.” 

He choked on a mouthful of soda. “Wilson!” 

The elevator doors opened, Watson bounding out of the contained space. “Hey bud.” Greeted Steve. The dog leapt at Steve and Sam, licking them indiscriminately. 

Natasha pretended to study the carpet with interest. “Huh.” She brushed a few fingers along the brand-new looking fibers. “How’d Banner get rid of the scorch marks?” 

“Who knows?” Shrugged Sam. “All I know is that whatever he sprayed smelled like pie.” 

She hummed and walked slowly around the couch before settling in an overstuffed arm chair like a cat. Her limbs were tightly pulled against her torso, legs tucked under her chin. 

Steve cleared his throat. “Sam and I are gonna watch something and drink some of this birch beer.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, but caught a bottle tossed at her by Rogers. She gasped softly at the clear liquid. “You drove out there for this?” 

“For you.” He corrected, blush creeping across his cheeks. 

She smelled the bottle. “How are they?” 

“Idyllic.” He picked at the label with his thumbnail. “We could drive out there sometime.” 

She smiled sadly at him for a long moment before nodding. 

“So.” James stretched his legs against the floor, leaning his back against the couch under Steve’s feet. “What are we watching?” 

“We could do the Hunger Games? Or a Lord of the Rings marathon?” Sam steepled his fingers excitedly. 

James laughed, rubbing Watson’s stomach. “Did you know that he loves listening to birds on TV? He tilts his head and is super invested in the content.” 

“Hunger Games it is.” Natasha voted solemnly. “As long as Steve keeps his book opinions to himself.” 

“Excuse me!” Feigning shock, Rogers clutched his chest. “I just finished the trilogy. That’s not fair. I’m all caught up!” 

“Don’t worry Nat, I’ll keep him quiet.” James winked at her. Tilting his head towards Steve, he pursed his lips for a kiss. 

The movie began and JARVIS dimmed the lights. Sam tossed snacks into the ample space of the seat of Natasha’s armchair. None of the men mentioned her birthday. Her phone pinged, and she unlocked her phone. Pepper’s text caused her lips to curl into a ghost of a grin. Thanks, be given for old friends, she promised to keep Tony occupied for the rest of the night. 

Settling into the chair Natasha forced her spine against the cushioning. The taste of cinnamon lingered on her tongue. Her friends chatted comfortably as the movie continued to play. As far as birthdays were concerned, this one ranked among the best of her life.


End file.
